


Assassination Board

by crimsonseekers



Series: Caught in a Web [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Drug Use, Gen, Plotting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:00:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23754250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsonseekers/pseuds/crimsonseekers
Summary: Wheeljack mentally revised the formula he had made for circuit boosters in his head. It wasfartoo potent if Prowl’s reaction to it was anything to go by.
Relationships: Prowl & Wheeljack
Series: Caught in a Web [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1699951
Comments: 9
Kudos: 69
Collections: Prowl Week





	Assassination Board

**Author's Note:**

> It's Prowl Week Day 2: High, so it calls for crackfic in more ways than one if you know what i mean

Wheeljack mentally revised the formula he had made for circuit boosters in his head. It was  _ far _ too potent if Prowl’s reaction to it was anything to go by.

His optics were overbright to the point of worrying Wheeljack about the possibility of them burning out, his EM field was  _ wildly _ out of control, and his processor to vocalizer filter had suddenly disappeared. Or perhaps it was more mind addling than Wheeljack had anticipated it being. Or both. Either way, it was certainly making the enforcer paranoid.

“No, no, no,” Prowl whispered desperately, grabbing Wheeljack with urgency. “Y’ can’t  _ make _ me go t’ sleep.”

“Uh,” Wheeljack started, attempting to pry Prowl’s fingers from where they had lodged in his transformation seams. “Maybe take a break, then? Read a datapad and try ‘n calm down while the boosters wear off.”

“Noooo,” Prowl whined, attaching himself more firmly to Wheeljack, wrapping his arms around the scientist’s chassis and practically hanging off of him. “If I stop paying attention, they’re gonna get me!”

Wheeljack sighed, shifting his weight back in an attempt to stay standing upright with the clingy mech pulling him down.

“Who’s tryin’ ta get ya?” he asked after a moment. He quickly regretted asking, the question making Prowl jerk, and the sudden movement was all that was needed to bring Wheeljack crashing onto the floor.

_ “Everybody,” _ Prowl muttered fervently, collapsing over Wheeljack’s midsection, who could do little more than letting out a pained grunt as the heavy gestalt frame crushed his abdomen.

Wheeljack let his head fall back to the floor with a resounding  _ clang. _ “They’re not gonna try ‘n getcha, Prowl.”

“No, no, no, you don’t understand!” Prowl whined, slapping Wheeljack’s chassis petulantly. “‘S everybody!”

Primus, Wheeljack wondered why he ever agreed to help Prowl.

“The entrance to the lab is reinforced,” Wheeljack said, in what he hoped was a soothing voice to calm the panicking mech. It had the opposite of the intended effect, as Prowl shot upright, leaning even  _ more _ of his weight on Wheeljack.

He did  _ not _ feel good about the groaning sound his plating gave off.

“They’re tryna trap me in here,” Prowl snarled, doorwings flaring as he glared at the door. “Gotta kill ‘em ‘fore they can get me.”

“What?” Wheeljack startled. Paranoia had led to Prowl’s more  _ jump the gun assassinate them before they can do anything _ tendencies far faster than he expected. “No, don’t kill anybody.”

“Gotta,” Prowl said resolutely. He blindly scrabbled his hand across Wheeljack’s work table above them, grabbing one of the markers Wheeljack liked to use to mark cuts on his projects.

“Prowl,” Wheeljack said warningly as the enforcer in question shifted to straddle his waist, the blocky tip of the marker lowering towards the white paint of his chassis almost enough to distract him from the crushing weight of a gestalt frame on his middle. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Starscream’s gotta go first,” Prowl mumbled. Wheeljack groaned in resignation as Prowl began to scribble on his chassis. First a crude-looking building, then a wonky-looking block bot on top of the building. “His office is pretty high up,” Prowl drew an arrow from the squiggly figure down to the ‘ground’, “we just gotta push ‘im out the window an’ he’ll fall to his death. Simple.”

Now, Wheeljack understood it wasn’t really the first priority in the situation (that belonging to talking Prowl down from ordering assassinations again), but, “Starscream can fly, Prowl. Falling won’t kill him. Just give me the marker, and ya can go lay down for a bit, yeah?”

Prowl scowled, and angrily scribbled out his diagram, and Wheeljack sighed yet again. He wasn’t really one to think about his finish too much, but he knew the marker Prowl was using was permanent and he really didn’t have time to strip and redo his finish. He wasn’t a prude, but he didn’t exactly want to go around looking like he had paint transfers on his chest plates.

“Then we gotta kick ‘im  _ up,” _ Prowl decided after a moment. “If he can’t die down, then he would die up.”

Wheeljack also decided that circuit boosters also erased any rational thought or iota of logic.

“We’re not killing Starscream,” he said firmly, prying the marker out of Prowl’s hands.

“No,” Prowl hissed, suddenly leaning way too close to Wheeljack’s face, overbright optics messing with the contrast settings of Wheeljack’s own. “We gotta kill ‘im. He’ll get you, he’ll get me, he’ll get all of us! An’ then if-”

“Wheeljack, you in?” a voice called suddenly from the door. Prowl’s head snapped int it’s direction, while Wheeljack just let his head fall back in exasperation, watching tiredly as Windblade strolled in, looking at a datapad in her hands. “Chromia and I were wondering if you-” she glanced up and paused entirely as she took in the scene before her.

Wheeljack considered telling her it was absolutely  _ not _ what it looked like (Prowl on his waist, dark looking smudges on his chassis, Prowl’s overbright optics, it was hard for it to  _ not _ look like something), before deciding it was either the implications of what they appeared to be doing or telling the Camien he was using a government-sponsored lab to cook up circuit boosters.

“I…” Windblade started but trailed off after a moment. An odd upward quirk to her lips appeared, and she began walking backward out of the lab. “Well, you look busy, I’ll just get back to you at some other time.” She spun around and speeded out of the lab. “Have a good night!” Windblade called over her shoulder.

Wheeljack sighed, and tiredly covered his face with his hands.

“We gotta kill Windblade, too,” Prowl muttered.

“We are  _ not killing anybody!” _


End file.
